


Where Have The Winchesters Gone?

by platonic_sex



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:27:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2837945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonic_sex/pseuds/platonic_sex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters were a happy family. Perfect to outsiders. The oldest son, Dean, has come back from fighting in World War II and Sam, the youngest, has the best grades parents could ask for. But something isn't right. No one has seen their smiling faces or heard anything from them since Dean came home last week. It's up to Dean and Sam's best friends to find out where the Winchesters disappeared to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Winchester house gave off an odd vibe that no one ever experienced. It was silent as the evening was dark. The front window was dark as well as the windows that marked John and Mary's children, Dean and Samuel. Usually you could hear the light sound of music that flowed from the kitchen window that Mary kept open to have a good flow of air. Nothing came from the home. The first one to notice was Charlotte Bradbury, the neighbour to the right of the Winchesters. She had knocked on the front door, adjusting the cheap jeans that her grandmother had managed to purchase. No one had answered which was strange altogether. If it wasn't Mary or John who answered, it was Dean. She sighed and leaned her head against the wood door, closing her eyes. "Come, Dean! I don't want to use this!" Charlotte whispered, opening her eyes and pushing off the door.

 _Here_. She remembers the day clearly. They were sitting in the grass, sun shining on their legs. Charlotte had convinced Dean to finally wear a pair of shorts with her, claiming he needed more colour than just white. His laugh filled the small backyard and he reached for his glass of iced tea on the tray Mary brought out. He reached into his pocket and placed a key onto her warm thigh. _Here_. She frowned at him and asked what if was for. _I need someone to watch out for my family. You're the closest thing I've got for a best friend and if something happens, I want to be able to trust you to handle it. Which I know I can, Charlie._ That nickname. Dean always called her Charlie and she preferred it from him. It fell harder from adults mouth and those her age. But when Dean said it, it was softer. Like he was being fond, instead of being malicious.

Charlotte had taken it from her thigh and tucked it into her pocket. They soon parted ways when her grandmother called her in to assist her with setting the table.

Now the time has come where she has to actually place the key, bound on her wrist with a piece of twine, into the lock. She breathes out slowly and glides it in. She unlocks the door and pushes it open. Everything in the foyer is the same. Shoes kept the right of the foyer and coats and hats kept on the hooks to the left. Charlotte didn't bother to kick her worn shoes off before shutting the door behind her. She crossed the threshold and went to the left. To the soul of the home.

Charlotte observed the room. Brown couch, facing towards the dining room with a large coffee table in front of it; Radio, close to John's chair; John's chair, at angle to the fireplace with a small side table between the chair and the couch. But there was a crystal glass sitting on the side table. John never left a glass anywhere unless it was in the sink. She also knew that he didn't waste his alcohol. She lifted it to her nose and sniffed it, scrunching her nose up. It was the kind that Dean never nicked from the cabinet for them late at night because John would have a conniption if a drop of that went missing. 

••••••••

**_Three days before..._ **

Dean sat on the twin sized mattress with a cigarette, he had gotten from one of his bunk mates, between his lips. He sat on his freshly made bed and had his window open, listening to the birds chirp. His suitcase laid open next to him with Brandon, his boyfriend, riffling through it.

"So you did get my letters!" Dean grinned at him and nodded, lighting his cigarette.

"Course I did, babe. Thanks for doing me that favour." Dean muttered, leaning forward to press his lips against Brandon's. Brandon greedily returned it, holding onto Dean's slim waist. They met during a game of contact football with a couple mutual friends. Brandon had tackled Dean on accident and immediately apologised, meaning to tackle Andrew. They shook on it and went separate ways. A month later, they met again at an house party of this girl that had a crush on Dean. They got to talking and hooked up in the master bedroom with the door locked while everyone got smashed. Dean sighed and pulled away from Brandon, beaming at him. There was the sound of a car door being slammed but they paid no mind as Brandon nudged Dean back on his bed.

"I'd gladly do you any favours." He murmured as he straddled Dean's hips. Then that's when everything went to shit. Mary had opened the door and gasped, dropping the welcome home cake. She said she would pick one up after work the other night since Dean wanted to surprise them about coming back. "Mom!" She closed the door and he could hear her heels clicked against the floor as she walked away. The boys stared at each other and Brandon was the first to move. He bolted from the room and Dean sighed as the front door clicked shut.

Dean stood up from his bed and stared at the icing smeared into his tan carpet. He stepped over the mess and traveled into the kitchen.

"How long?" Mary inquired as Dean stepped foot onto the tile floor. He didn't answer her as he grabbed the tea kettle from the counter. He went to the sink and filled it with warm water before placing it on a burner. "Dean, you better answer me when I speak to you. How long?" He turned it on and leaned against the counter beside the stove.

"Brandon and I have be-" Mary interrupted with a sob.

"No, how long have you liked men?" Dean shrugged.

"Not too long. Brandon's the first." Mary wiped her eyes and sat up straight.

"You better not ha-" Dean shook his head. Lying to his mother has been extremely easy lately. He usually couldn't say a thing that was a bit off of the truth or he'd crack. Maybe telling his army buddies that every time a letter came from Brandon that his girl signed with her brothers name instead of hers. He also said that if her father knew that she was writing to a Winchester, that she would be buried by 7 am the next morning. Whenever they asked her first name, he would always say Robin. That was the name of the girl that he went to his junior prom with and who told him that she'd gotten pregnant the next year by Johnny Steinback.

"Oh god, no. ." Mary bobbed her head and sighed.

"You know that I have to tell your father, right?" The tea kettle whistled and Dean swiped it off the burner, reaching for a clean mug.

"Yes, I know. I wasn't going to argue with that."

"This is going to be very hard on you. It's 1945, Dean. People aren't very accepting." Dean chuckled as he poured the hot liquid into Mary's favourite mug with the bagged tea at the bottom.

"You're tellin' me. When I got back, I had to save some young black kid from gettin' his teeth knocked in. I asked the kids pushing him what he'd done, one said he stepped on his shoe and scuffed it." Dean had picked up her cup and walked over to hand it to her. "One of my buddies had gotten singled out everyday to do a hundred pushups because he was darker then the toast they served. All for just puttin' the wrong foot forward, Mom." 

Mary laces her fingers around the mug and lifted it to her mouth, blowing on it. "I just don't know how John is gonna react." Dean shrugged.

"We'll deal with that once we get there. But until then, let's not rock the boat." They both fell into a shared silence until Mary got up.

"Your father will be home soon with Sam. Please be ready to speak with him." Later that night, Dean went to bed with a black eye, enough insults thrown his way to file away in the verbal abuse section of his mind and a sympathetic hug from Sam.

••••••••••••

_**PRESENT** _

Charlie pulled her hair up with a scrunchie and opened the door to Dean's room. She gasped at the state. Everything was on the floor. Books off the shelves, posters in pieces on the floor, clothing scattered everywhere and his limited amount of shoes weren't in their designated spot in his closet.

There was a red stain on the carpet that hadn't been there the last time she'd been in there. She nudged a few articles of clothing out of the way and tears welled in her eyes.

"Dean, what happened?" She whispered and kneeled down to grab a piece of paper with Dean's name on it. She flipped it over and saw that Brandon had signed it. She remembered a Brandon from her English class the year before. Smart and well-rounded person. She started to read it and gasped.

_Dean,_

_Today was just another miserable day without you. This town has really seeped its poisonous roots into everyone. No one is the same. We used to a be somewhat civil town and it has all gone to shit. Steven, remember him? The dark skinned guy that played football with us who never bothered anyone and was nicer than anyone? Two mornings ago, they had found him floating along the river bank. A couple fourteen year olds had found him while searching for a good place to cool off. No one could recognise him except for that birthmark on his lower back. That one white blotch on his back. His mother cried like you wouldn't believe and no one consoled her. The one person that did speak with her only spit in her face and told her to get over her nigger boy dying and that she wouldn't be far behind._

_They say that the apple never falls far from the tree, but I'm scared to turn out like my father. He's the kind of man that you avoid having eye contact with when you pass him on the sidewalk. He was cruel to everyone except my mother, whom he loved too much. I'm sure that he was apart of that group of men that murdered Steven. Mom was shouting when he came home. I peeked my head out and his usual white shirt was all red and he was crying into my mothers chest._

_All is the same, I suppose. But this has been too sad and you read these letters to get away from the horrors of this war. The good things are, surprisingly, Sam and Charlotte. I've spoken with Charlotte and she isn't like everyone thinks. She might be as shy as a groundhog at first but she's still sweet. She told me a whole bunch of stories about you and how many times you've attempted to jump a fence while tipsy. After the third time, why didn't you give up? You're a silly bastard, you know that? She also said that you two were the ones responsible for shaving off Jimmy Nurello's right eyebrow. Him attempting to color it back in only made people whisper more. You weren't there but I swore I saw Charlotte smirking during Chemistry when he came in the room. Now, Sam is a different story. He was with Charlotte when I came to speak with her and he's not like you described. He's the most outgoing fifteen year old that wasn't an asshole. He laughed at almost every story, especially the one about you falling on the swings. When I turned my questions onto him, he kind of shrunk against Charlotte. As if he was afraid to be given attention. It was difficult to have a conversation with him when he refused to have eye contact with me. I turned my attention to the soccer ball that was in Charlotte's front yard. I asked if he played and he whispered that it was only for fun. After a few minutes of silence, he wanted to play with me. He's a pretty smart kid. Telling me all kinds of facts that he read about greek mythology and how long walnuts grow. Did you know that walnuts can grow for five to seven years?  Well I guess you do now.  
_

_Well it's dinner time and Mom gets irritable when she has to watch her food get cold. "I've slaved over this meal and you better come enjoy it. This ain't a diner." I can hear it coming already, Dean. Next time, I'll write a longer entry to you. Maybe describe something or someone to you. Just tell me what you want to hear about and I'll do the best I can to make you happy_

_Love,_

_Brandon_

Charlie stood up and dropped the paper from her hands. She wiped the tears that fell from her face. 

"Dean, I don't know how to handle this. So I'm just gonna run and deal with it tomorrow." Charlotte ran from the room and down the hall, opening the front door to see a small Asian kid at the door. His fist was raised to knock but he jumped back, falling off the porch steps. Charlie locked the door and slammed it behind her. She padded down the concrete steps, standing over the kid. 

"State your name and business here at the Winchester house." Charlie questioned, placing a foot on his chest. He struggled for a second to get his breath back. 

"Kevin Tran! I'm here to see Sam for our studying lessons!" Charlie sighed and pushed off his chest. He coughed dramatically and she held out a hand. He took it and she lifted him to his feet. 

"You're Kevin?" Kevin nodded twice and she watched his hair follow his movements. "Yeah, Sam has told me about you. Super smart guy who's got a stick up his ass."

Kevin turned red and nodded. "And you are?" 

"Charlotte Bradbury at your service!" Kevin grinned and stuck his hand out. Charlie wrapped her fingers around it and shook it firmly. 

"Have you seen Sam anywhere?" Kevin asked, giving her a large grin. 

"Actually, not since Dean came home. When was the last time you saw Sam?" 

"Whenever he went to the doctors a few days ago." Charlie nodded and yanked on her scrunchie. Her hair fell around her face and the heat from the sun made her regret it immediately. The August sun was pouring down onto her pale neck. Maybe she should've tanned more with Dean so she wouldn't reflect sun rays into anyone's eyes.

"Kevin, this is all really weird." 

"How so?" 

"Dean said that whenever he got done packing, he'd catch up with me." Kevin rolled his eyes but gave her the sign to continue. "That was around this time last week." 

Kevin shrugged. "Maybe he forgot or something. That does not mean anything." 

"Kevin, it's normal for Dean to stay inside most of the time. But not for Sam. He kicks around that soccer ball in a thunderstorm and I haven't heard him hit that damned ball against my fence since Dean went MIA." Kevin was silent for a few minutes while Charlie stared at him. 

"Okay, that's not like Sam. But you were the one inside. What did it look like in there?" Charlie pulled her hair up again and sighed. 

"Weird. It didn't have the same warm feeling as always. It felt...tense. Like someone came and ripped up the atmosphere they adapted. But other then that, everything was in place except the boys rooms." Kevin's eyes grew wide and she saw his throat bob. His face had grown pale and his hands squeezed the textbook tightly. Charlie snapped her fingers in his face and he stared up at her instead of the concrete pathway. 

"Sam said that he overheard his parents.." Kevin started to sway and Charlie stabilized him by grasping his shoulders. "Sam told me that he heard his parents talking about Dean and him being taken away." 

"Where?!" 

"Sam left before he could hear anymore. He was scared though. You could tell by his voice. It cracked and shook, so unlike Sam." He started to wobble by the knees so Charlie maneuvered him to her shaded porch. Kevin leaned his head against the cool wood of the steps and Charlie popped inside. She passed by her napping grandmother, who had fallen asleep while reading. She grabbed a glass and filled it with water, tiptoeing past the living room. She watched him from her porch door and he pressed his fingers to his neck. 

"Here." Charlie opened the door and handed over the glass. He took it from her slim fingers and chugged the whole glass. He pressed it against his face and beamed. _Here_. She sat down on a plastic chair and leaned back. 

"We could investigate the house." Charlie nodded. 

"That would be good for another day. Let's meet back here at around 10 tomorrow and maybe you can control your nausea." Kevin chuckled. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, dwelling in their own thoughts. Charlie watched the cars pass by with smiling families and dogs bouncing back and forth between the back windows. She sighed and got up from her seat, careful to avoid Kevin's hair that was spread along the wood. It was an unusual length for a male haircut but different strokes for different folks, right? She walked to the curb and sat down.

 _This summer wouldn't be complete without an adventure._ This is Charlie's last summer before senior year. Dean's been gone since the summer after his junior year. His reappearance in the neighborhood gave her high hopes about spending their shared senior year. Last year was Dean's original graduating year but was too busy fighting. Mary joked about it several times with Charlotte whenever she would have dinner with them. John didn't think it was very funny but he only gave a frustrated sigh and that caused everyone to eat in silence for a couple minutes. That is until Sam burped loudly and sent Charlotte into a giggle fit. She wouldn't give up until she found those boys and their parents as well. No woman leaves her home behind unless she was forced to. But what could've forced Mary out of her own home, where her only children grew up? So the question still remains.

Where have the Winchesters gone? 


	2. the evaluation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry if there are mistakes or grammar problems. I didn't have the time to fix them

_**Thump, thump** _

_**Thump,** **thump**_

That noise was the beginning of the downfall of the Winchester home. Dean was sitting on his bed, rereading out a worn paperback book. He'd gotten Darkness at Noon in war. There had been a female nurse named Ruby, a ruthless woman that was too mouthy for her own good. She'd seen Dean in the infirmary way too much for the asthma that he'd developed as well as a large chunk of his shoulder that was missing. The first time she ever said anything to him, she was working on his shoulder.

"Don't hold your breath if you can't catch it." He glared at her from his seat and she giggled to herself, wrapping up his upper arm and wound. He thanked the blonde nurse that handed him the bronchospasm inhaler that would help. The blonde nurse wiggles the cap off for Dean, stepping back to give him time. He inhales through the mouthpiece and closed his eyes. "Why don't you just take it out for a date?" He opened his eyes to see Ruby, staring down at him. She reached over and moved his collar, smirking at his name.

"Don't you have some lives that you could be saving?"

"Don't you have an entire race of people to be saving?" Dean gritted his teeth and clenched his free hand. He knew that punching a woman wouldn't be a gentleman thing but maybe she was an exception. Ruby leaned across his chest to reach something and a breeze blew, making her hair tickle his face. She smelled like peppermint and disinfectant, an odd combination for such a pretty woman. She straightened up and held a book in front of his face. He grabbed it from her fingers and gazed up at her.

"It passes the time when all you're doing is waiting for something to happen. Let me know if you feel any discomfort in your shoulder." Dean grinned up at her and he swore that she returned it.

Dean chuckled at the memory and flipped the page. He couldn't continue because he heard John yelling at a crying Mary. He rolled off the bed and raked his fingers through his hair. Well it was Friday and the end of the week was always Fight Night. Sam and Dean used to bet before John arrived home from a long day on how bad it was going to be. This time, they rated it an 8. An 8 would be Mary crying and John storming out. After a few minutes of harsh whispering coming from John's office, it was silent. Then someone pounded on the front door. Dean's heart started to race at the sound. It was starting. He eased his door open and tapped lightly on Sam's door. He saw Sam's wide eyes through the crack and he pushed through. Sam closed it behind him and turned towards him.

"Dean, I'm scared." He whispered, tears falling down his cheeks. Dean wrapped his arms around his brother and squeezed him tightly. He felt Sam sob into his chest, who had his arms loosely around his back.

"What's gonna happen to us?" Dean pulled away and placed his hands on his brothers cheeks.

"Nothing, you hear me? Whatever they're gonna do, they're gonna go through hell before I let either one of them put a hand on you. You're not leaving this house." Sam's eyes filled up again and Dean wiped his tears away. "Sam, you gotta tell me exactly what you heard. Start to finish, you hear me?"

Sam took a deep breath and exhaled. "Dad told Mom what the doctor said. That people with my problem are handled at mental institutes. Then Mom told Dad what happened to you and he said that he's gonna send us away. Have people come get us. Dad said that people like us belong there. Dean, are we crazy?"

"They think that cause we're different then we're automatically insane. You remember what I'm telling you, Sammy. The Winchester brothers are not mad." Dean paused to give a reluctant smile. "Don't leave this room, you got me?"

"De-" Dean covered Sam's quivering mouth with a hand.

"Don't leave this room, Sammy. No matter what you hear. If someone tries to get in this room, you climb out that window and run. Run as fast as you can until you get to the woods. If they catch you, fight. Don't go willingly. Kick, punch, scream, anything will do. Promise me?" Sam watched his brothers face for a second and nodded.

"I promise." Dean hugged him tightly, leaning back to kiss his temple. Sam closed his eyes and practiced the breathing exercises Dean taught him. Dean beamed at him and took a deep breath. "See you on the other side."

"Hopefully. But I just wanted to let you know something before I go. I'm proud of you for always being so brave. It takes a big man to stand up to John Winchester, even if it was about you going to some dance." Sam nodded and Dean ruffled his hair. Dean left the room and Sam crossed the room to where a necklace was hanging on the wall. The amulet that Dean given to him. It was a special necklace that was claimed to watch over anyone that wore it. He said that a nurse named Maybelle gave it to him one time during his daily visits. He wrote to Sam that she snuck him extra crackers and sweets when he wanted them. She'd kissed him but Dean stopped her, claiming that he had someone else. She understood and didn't make another pass but there was a rumour that they were togethe when he left. Sam had gotten the package about a month or two before Dean came knocking on the front door.

He took it and clipped it around his neck. He opened his window and sat on the edge of his bed, trying to calm himself down.

Dean walked into the kitchen and reached into his pocket, pulling out his last cigarette. It was one of the rolled ones that George, a short but muscular guy, did for his birthday. George dropped out of high school in 1938 to become a mechanic but he was rejected by several local mechanic shops located in his small town in Georgia. So he thought that army was the best thing left for him and he was absolutely correct.

Dean swiped a matchbox from the counter and pulled one out, striking it against the side of the box. He lit his cigarette and threw the match into the sink behind him. He took a drag and heard someone clear their throat.

"Dad, you're looking good. What kind of shampoo are you using? Your hair looks unusually clean tonight." Dean exhaled the smoke and he could feel the anger radiating off of John's sweaty skin.

"Dean, put that out." Dean gave him bored look and raised his eyebrow, dragging a mouthful. He watched the pulsing vein in John's forehead. "Now." Dean blew the smoke in John's face and chuckled a bit.

"You can't do a thing to m-" John's hand closed around his neck and Dean stared into his hateful brown eyes.

"You're not my son!" John shouted, spit spraying onto Dean's freckled cheeks. "You're just a faggot!" Dean laughed and John squeezed tighter. He gazed around and saw a can of generic brand corn sitting next to the sink.

"You know your favourite chair? I've fucked boys on it, Daddy." John pushed him against the counter and banged the back of his head against the cabinet. Dean inched the can further and wrapped his hand around it, waiting.

"You fucking faggot! I swear to god that you'll be in the river alongside that nigger! Keep on talkin' and you'll see what happens!" Dean smiled and reached up with his cigarette, pressing it against John's cheek. He moved a hand wipe away the hot ash and that's Dean picked up canned corn, smashing it on John's temple. He watched his father collapse in a heap on the kitchen floor, his eyes a bit hazy. He stepped over John and went into the living room, seeing two large men sitting on the couch next to Mary.

"Mom, did you not hear what just happened in the kitchen?" Dean questioned, placing a hand on her thin shoulder.

"Don't touch me." Mary snapped before turning to gaze at her son. "You've cause enough damage tonight. Just go with these nice men and it'll all be over." Mary wiped her cheeks and uncrossed her ankles, standing up. She reached out and held her sons face in her soft hands. She reaches forward and kisses both cheeks, whispering to him. "Don't give up, Baby. I'll visit you." Mary stepped back and passed by him to the kitchen, most likely to check on John. The men stared down at him and Dean smiled at them.

"Come on, son. Time to go." They reached out and Dean backed up. They followed until John's side table bumped into his hip. "You can do this the easy way or the hard way, son." Dean smirked at the men, glaring at them with a slight chuckle.

"All I know is the hard way." He picked up a lamp and chucked it at their heads. When they ducked, Dean leaped over the couch and saluted the men once they straightened up. "Sammy, you might wanna get going now!"

Sam shot up from his bed to the window, vaulting himself into the grass. He got to his feet and bolted from the yard. He was grateful that he had his shoes on so he couldn't feel rocks digging into his feet. Sam heard shouting and the sounds of feet pounding against the asphalt. He laughed and ran even faster, maybe he should consider the soccer team. He ducked into a bush that would lead him to the high school fields. There was some type of scrimmage match going on. He couldn't tell what sport from this distance but he could hear feet and heavy breathing behind him.

"Hey!" Someone shouted when he ran in the middle of the game. Sam hit the woods and dodged logs, sticks and branches threatening to hit him in the face. He stopped before he realized that staring him in the face was a large ditch. Sam's eyes widened and tried to run away, feeling his feet slide from underneath of him.

"Damn it!" He shouted, scrambling to find something to hold onto. His lower body was already dangling sliding down as he reached out for a tree branch to cling onto. His nails were deep in the dirt as he heard the same voices from earlier. Sam gave up and let himself fall down, closing his eyes.

••••••

Dean groaned and slowly opened his eyes. Grey concrete watched him strain to move. "There's no point. I've tried everything myself." Dean gave himself whiplash, trying to see who was speaking.

"Who are you?" The scrawny man laid in the bed next to his. He had a dopey smile on his face as he turned onto his side.

"The name's Garth."

"Garth?"

"Sebastia, how are you feeling this morning?" Garth sighed and flipped his body to face the window. Dean lifted his head and saw a beautiful blonde woman in a white nurses outfit. She walked over to Dean's bed and grabbed the metal clipboard, flipping through the pages. She reached into her pocket and brought a pen out to write on the papers.

"Okay, Mr. Winchester! We're gonna get you out of those straps and you'll go visit Dr. Grant."

Dean nodded. "Why am I in straps?" The nurse laughed and dropped her pen back into her pocket, holding the clipboard against her chest.

"You gave us quite the fight. Screaming for someone named Sam and thrashing around. You even bit and kicked one of our orderlies! It was quite a sight, Mr. Winchester. We had no choice but to sedate you!" The nurse giggled to herself and plastered a plastic smile on her beautiful face.

"Is there someone here under the same name as me?" The nurse ignored him as she stood next to his bedside and undid the straps. Dean followed her movements until his wrists and ankles were free.

"Come on, Mr. Winchester. Can't keep Dr. Grant waiting." Dean rolled his eyes and threw his legs over the side of the thin mattress, pressing his feet onto the cold floor. "If we can pick up the pace, you might be able to sit in the Rec Room until it's time for everyone's medication."

"Yay." Dean muttered in a monotone voice. The two exited the room, making their way to Dr. Grant's office.

••••••

Sam stared at a pink wall and sighed. He was outside an office, waiting to speak with whoever resided inside. He slid his fingers through his hair and twirled chunks around. He hummed a song that he remembered Mary mouthing the words to. It was some Bing Crosby song she played continuously on the record player in the dining room. Maybe it was Brother Can You Spare Me A Dime or When Irish Eyes Are Smiling.

He was trying to figure it out when the wooden door was eased open. A woman with crazed hair came out, lead by a dark haired nurse.

"Sam?" His head snapped up with a confused look and immediately. It was Lisa Braeden, Dean's one and only girlfriend. Dean spent a few months before his shipment contemplating wether or not to marry her. Dean was a nervous wreck when she came over for dinner. They went into the living room after having a slice of Mary's pie for dessert. He asked if that would be something she would consider, she said if he came back and still wanted to then she would. A smile was passed between them.

"Lisa! It's good to see you!" Lisa spoke to the woman in her arms and sat her down in a worn padded chair. She came over and plopped down next to Sam. They hugged for a moment. Sam loved her hugs and Lisa dearly. She was the only girl, besides Charlie of course, that had a large part of his heart in hand. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he had a crush on her for a few months after they first met.

"God, Sam. I heard there were two new arrivals but I would never think it would be you." Sam smirked at her and shook his head.

"You can blame my dad for this one. He threw me in here, literally." Sam chuckled and clasped his hands together. Lisa covered them with her warm hands and smiled to herself.

"You can tell me all about it later, Sam. Maybe I'll see you later during medication time." Lisa got up and kissed his forehead. Sam closed his eyes and leaned back against the wooden bench.

 

"Mr. Winchester, please come in." Sam stood up and trudged into the office. He gave the woman behind the desk a blank stare. "Sit please." He flopped onto the stiff chair and crossed his legs.

"Do you think you belong here?"

"Well I guess so. I'm in need of help that 'I'm not stable to live in a normal society. That I'm deformed.'"

"Why do you say that?" "Those were the doctors words. They were extremely polite compared to my father's."

"What did your father say?"

"He said that I belong in a place where they can take care of abominations like me. That you could take care of the monster I am." Sam wiped his forehead of the sweat and clasped his sweaty hands together in his lap.

"If you don't mind me asking, what was your diagnosis?" Dr. Grant scribbles something down and rests her head on her free hand, gazing at Sam.

"Acute panic disorder." Dr. Grant lifts her head and Sam notices a twinkle in her eye, causing him to frown.

"That's an anxiety related disorder, correct?" Sam bobbed his head and the woman squeals. Actually squeals. As if Sam was the guy she had a crush on and he just asked her to homecoming. Sam furrows his brow and feels his heart pump faster as he watched her bounce from her chair to the several filing cabinets. "How long have you had this?"

"Since I can from my mother's womb, I guess. The doctor sai-"

"Enough about that doctor! I'll contact him later. Just let me breeze through this file about your condition and sit there quietly." Sam blinked a few times and shook his head. The few minutes of silence was joined by the scratching of a pen. Dr. Grant hummed to herself as she wrote, tapping the end of her pen against the file whenever she referred back to it. "This is very good thing! With several medications and electroshock therapy once a month, you'll be right as rain in a short time!" Dr. Grant placed her pen down and leans back in her chair. "This is a very curable thing, Samuel. You're very lucky." Sam clenched his fist and sighed.

"What's a good thing? That anytime I have to answer personal questions I feel like I'm having a heart attack? Or that I have heart palpitations? Or that in the last week and a half, I have gotten eight hours of sleep? That the thought of speaking to the pretty girl in my Chemistry class makes me so nervous that I end up puking?" Sam stood up and took a harsh breath, feeling lightheaded. "I'm gonna puke."

He went to the door and rips it open, feeling the cold air rush to his face. Sam whipped his head around, searching for a trash bin. He spotted one by a nurse's station, falling to his knees. He brought the lip of the trash bin to his mouth, throwing up profusely. He placed the bin on the ground, sweat beads rolling down his face.

"Sammy?" Sam raised his head slowly to gaze lazily at whoever called his name. His eyes met with Dean's and Sam have him a lopsided smile.

"Dean..? How'd you get here?" Dean got up slowly, kneeling by his side.

"Please, don't touch Mr. Winchester. He's in a very fragile state!" Dean glanced up from Sam, whose whole body was quivering and had tears welling up in his eyes.

"Yeah, I know. He's having a panic attack, but you can made a diagnosis of what it is." Dean rolled his eyes, holding Sam's hand.

"And who are you?" Dr.Grant asked, a scowl on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm Dean, his older brother. Please to meet you." Dean gave the wide eyed woman a sarcastic grin. She nodded at him, sighing.

"Yes. Well, Mr. Winchester, I'll have one of my nurses escort Samuel to the recreational room. You can join him there later on." Dean flickered his eyes back and forth between Sam and Dr. Grant, slowing releasing his hand. "Lisa! Would you please come take Mr. Winchester to meet the other patients?"

"Just a second!" A rushed voice came and Dean glanced up from his brother, his eyes wide at the familiar voice. Dean watched as Lisa appeared into view and she stared at him, a small smile spreading on her face. Dean gave her a goofy smile; he'd loved Lisa and always will.

"Lisa, today please." Lisa went over to Sam, whispering something to him.

"Mr. Winchester, come with me." Dean followed the doctor back into her office and stared at Lisa work Sam into a wheelchair gently.

Grant sat in her chair and folded her hands on her desk, smiling at Dean. 

"So," She glanced down at the folder on her desk. "Dean, why don't you tell me how come you and your younger brother both ended up in my facility?" Dean held a smirk on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, sighing.

"Because our piece of shit father can't stand that his sons are different. Or a 'faggot' and an 'abomination' if you want to use his exact words. Do what you will with that information." Dean stares out the window behind the set of filing cabinets as the leaves on the trees shook with the breeze.

"So what do you even do here to pass the time?"

"We're outside most of the time because most of the patients enjoy the sunshine. But if we aren't outside, then we sit in the recreational or the main room and play some board games. I'm also working on getting a record player for everyone then we can listen to Bing Crosby, Jimmy Dorsey and maybe some Glenn Miller." Dean shrugged. "Since your father brought you in on evidence of homosexuality, we should speak about your treatment."

"Sorry, can I go now? As much as I don't want to, I accept the terms and conditions." Dean was worried about Sam, wanting to make sure that he was calm and acting like himself again. He was most likely talking Lisa's ear off if he felt better. Dean remembered about Lisa's attention on Sam was a deal breaker. He'd always talk about things he read in a book or the thing he learned in class. Once he kept going on about genotypes as well as phenotypes, she listened to every word. When he asked her why she let him talk about something she already learned, she simply answered that the twinkle in his eyes was worth it. 

"Yes, you may. Go down this hallway and then make a left. You should be there. If no one is there, they'll be outside." Dean nodded and left the room swiftly, following her directions. Dean went to a door that was labeled to outside and pushed open the door. Dean surveyed the area and saw a dark haired guy in a bathrobe hovering over a bush of flowers, bees flew all around him. He had a small smile on his face and he was speaking softly to himself. The guy turned around and blinked a few times at Dean, starting to let his smile fall. 

Dean waved at him and slowly started to make his way over to Sam, who began calling his name. 


End file.
